


Tokyo Dreaming

by DifferentNameJustInCase



Category: Electronic Dance Music RPF
Genre: A dash of awkwardness, Affection, Confessions, Drabble, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Makeouts, Minor cursing, Portgo - Freeform, Teasing, a bit of OOC-ness, google translate french, mixed pov maybe? still figuring out my stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-30 19:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10170407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DifferentNameJustInCase/pseuds/DifferentNameJustInCase
Summary: All you need is a little shelter.~Porter and Hugo have a few moments together alone in their hotel room the night before the fourth leg of their tour.





	1. As Soft As Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr! Transcribed and edited from the original handwritten text I did in my German class journal. Reposted here for convenience since my blog is kind of a mess.  
> Enjoy!

Porter sank into the sofa in the hotel room. He tried his best to appear uninterested in his friend from across the room.

Hugo _“Madeon”_ Pierre Leclercq. Probably making something amazing on that launchpad and laptop of his at the kitchen table. “The Guy-Manuel to his Thomas…” he had once joked under the influence of quite a bit of alcohol in his body. Or maybe it was the other way around? He couldn’t tell anymore.

_Bzzzzzt._

A name flashed upon a startled Porter’s phone screen. The alert was from his brother, Nick, sending a text message.

It read: _“How was the flight? Wish I could see you guys in Japan too!”  
_

Porter sighed to himself into the stretched out collar of his sweater. Sitting up slightly, he texted back, “ _Hell like usual >->_”. On the other side, Nick chuckled and decided to mess with the other Robinson.

“ _The plane ride or you know who? ;)_ ”

Porter dropped the phone and choked a little too loudly. The small ruckus caught Hugo’s attention. “Everything okay?” he asked playfully with “that stupidly attractive accent” of his. Porter attempted to maintain some semblance of normal eye-contact with the Frenchman but couldn’t help but look away. The way Hugo had recently started emulating his “fashen” style made him want to melt every time he looked. From the unkempt hair, unzipped jacket to the beanie and the shoes. _For God’s sake, he was wearing different shoes for once.  
_

Hugo averted his gaze from the symphony of sounds on-screen he was making in progress and strolled to the sofa. Heavily plopping himself down next to Porter, he reached for the beanie off his own head.

Porter remained perplexed and still. He noted how careful and gentle Hugo set it on the coffee table in front of them, watching that long, fluffy mane drape across his Shelter Crew jacket and shoulders. He wanted to run his fingers through those locks like Hugo was doing now. Maybe even steal a few kisses in the proce-

Hugo’s fingers met Porter’s cheek in a soft slap. “Porter,” Hugo asked forwardly, searching in those dark eyes for an answer. “Did you catch something at the airport? Tu n'as pas l'air bien…”

Porter shook his head and felt his hair rise and fall to his ears. His beanie also happened to be laid next to Hugo’s. Before he knew it, his friend was standing up to put his shoes by the hotel door, chuckling.

Hugo felt slender fingers grasp at the sleeve of his jacket before he could make it anywhere from Porter. Porter swallowed thick and managed with his weary voice, “No, I’m not sick.”

They stayed like that for what felt like forever. Porter fiercely gazed at Hugo, earning a raised eyebrow in curiosity…and excitement from the latter. Hugo gave back an equally frightening and inquisitive stare.

To Porter’s shock, he was hoisted up by the wrist. Now standing face to face, he was close enough to Hugo to feel the Frenchman’s breath tickling his skin. Silence remained between them. Their silhouettes softly formed in the dim lighting of what was visible in the hotel room. The sunset peeked through the blinds, as if to tell the duo, “It is time.”

Porter stuttered. “I-I…I, uh…”

Hugo gravitated closer but clumsily bumped noses with Porter resulting in both of the boys sputtering half-assed apologies into the darkness.

Porter snickered into his sweater sleeve. “Told you my stupid, fucking nose would embarrass me sometim-”

Hugo planted a gentle kiss on that nose of his. And before he knew it, another one on Porter’s temple. Pausing, he reached out for the American’s hand, squeezing it delicately in a non-verbal act of asking for permission. Porter barely squeezed out a “mm-hmm” from the back of his throat before he was leaning in.

Their lips met in a cascade of tenderness and subtlety. It was pure and chaste. Hugo kept it that way as he drank in everything about Porter in their embrace. From his uneven breathing to his chin touching his and the way he vaguely swayed to an imaginary tempo.

Pulling away, Hugo anticipated a few more words from the lips he wanted to feel again and again. Arms wrapped around his shoulders and he was warm. They were warm together and it was intoxicating.

Porter strained his voice into the Frenchman’s neck. “You feel the same, Hugo?”  
Hugo hummed in delight as they swung slowly in each others arms.

“Oui, je t'aime tellement, Porter. Nous allons nous abriter les uns les autres okay?”

Porter craned his neck back to see Hugo’s face. With a huge grin on his face, he said,

“I only understood a few words, but if you’re asking us to be more…hell fucking yes.”

Hugo laughed at his own quip and suddenly they were swirling navies and aquamarines again.

* * *

Hugo stroked Porter’s locks blanketed across the pillows in the morning sunlight. Singing half to the ceiling and half to his boyfriend sleeping next to him, lyrics fell from his lips as he tapped his fingers on the sheets.

 _The time is right…_  
_To put my arms around you…_  
_You’re feeling right…_  
_You wrap your arms around too…_

* * *

**END**


	2. When No One Else Is Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after confessions. Everyone who likes cute morning fics clap your hands!

_cont. from morning_

* * *

 

Once Porter arose from his slumber, they had been lounging around in bed for a while after breakfast. Him and Hugo of course.

“I thought it was sort of dumb crushing on you when we first started talking online. As the years went by,” mumbled Porter as tender touches swept over his head. “I found it was very real.” He picked at the sheets.

He breathed in Hugo’s scent. The smell of coffee and bread from breakfast earlier still lingered in his presence as they stared at the ceiling.

“If I’m being honest,” Hugo whispered lowly as he pushed Porter’s hair back out of his eyes and leaned on his elbow. “I never thought I’d get to meet you back then. Let alone this.”

Porter hummed with intrigue as the man next to him fell into a dark, half-lidded gaze. The tension in the air was getting a bit too thick. Hugo decided he liked it. And judging from the way Porter looked up at him past the hand on his forehead, the intimate moment was mutual.

”You should also try putting this back up in a headband. It’s a good look.” Hugo smiled a smile as warm as the sunlight making the bedroom glow, leaning over with a mischievous aura. Porter sighed with a dash of lighthearted disappointment and blushed, shifting in the bed sheets. “You should be talking! Your lion’s mane has gotten much wilder.” Porter reached in himself, lightly pressing his fingers to Hugo’s scalp. “Lion boy.”

Hugo nuzzled into the gesture. Porter pulled him closer and it was like the night before all over again. But better. Significantly better once Hugo got the message that it was okay to take things a step further than the lightness he had initiated previously. It took Porter some focus to prevent the rhythm from being sloppy, but regardless, Hugo didn’t mind a single bit. Every break to breathe, Porter relished in the desperate French mumbling of his partner and the little sounds Hugo made when he cut him off by another kiss.

"Mmm...nnh...Porter...S’il vous plaît!"  
  
Porter quite enjoyed the weight pressing down on him. The Frenchman wasted no time in straddling his hips.

Hugo fingered at the Shelter wristband on Porter’s left wrist but got interrupted by a knock on the door and simultaneous phone ringing. They might’ve been a tad late for a stage rehearsal.

* * *

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing Tokyo Dreaming! I'll be writing more Portgo thingies because of the prompts sent in my tumblr askbox, so look forward to that if you liked this~! :)


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